Snatched
by Sayuri-2012
Summary: "She was safe for a little while longer, although how much longer was anyone's guess..." Set in season 11.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wrote this before I found fan fiction and joined up. I decided to go through it now and edit some parts and then post it. I know the kidnapping thing had been done a million times before, but I thought I'd share anyway, just in case anyone wanted to read another one. :-) It's not very long. Only 6 chapters. It is EO but more focused on their friendship. Hope you enjoy it. **

1

It was one of those cases that she just couldn't get out of her head. Of course most of the cases she dealt with on a daily basis were the kind of thing the most experienced crime fiction writer would probably have difficulty conjuring up, but this one had been particularly harrowing. Cases involving children usually were. Her deep longing for a child of her own compounded to make any case of neglect or abuse all the more difficult to deal with and comprehend when she encountered it.

She had originally had plans that evening to meet an old school friend who was in town for the weekend, but she really didn't feel up for anything after the week she had just had, so she had cancelled. Of course her friend was disappointed, but she'd get over it. Jen had a regular life: worked part-time in a shop selling beauty products and spent the rest of her time juggling her two kids and her own social life. It was a completely different world from Olivia's. One that today she felt even more removed from than usual.

Olivia inserted the key into her lock but didn't get as far as turning it. She realised she really didn't feel like going home. She needed some air. She needed to think. She went back down the stairs and onto the street. The November air was cool and refreshing. She could see the odd star poking out from behind the scattered clouds and the almost full moon was casting an eerie atmospheric light on the street. She felt the vibration of her phone letting her know she had received a message. She reached into her pocket and brought it out, immediately seeing the message was from her partner Elliot Stabler (_although to be honest who else would be messaging her at this time of night?_). She hesitated half-inclined to leave it until the following day, but then decided she may as well read it right away and so opened it up.

_Been a rough week… In Rocco`s if you fancy a coffee. _

He obviously wanted, needed to talk about what had happened this week, but he would never put any direct pressure on her to do so. They understood each other. They went through the same experiences and it was much easier than talking to anyone outside the job. Often they didn't even need the words. They just intuitively knew how the other was thinking or feeling and sometimes just being together knowing that they both just got it was all they needed. She decided she would go along and quickly tapped out her intention in a short message before she set off towards the coffee shop which incidentally was becoming more and more of a frequent haunt lately.

Rocco`s was only a ten to fifteen minute walk away. She set off at a brisk pace, welcoming the distraction of having a specific place to go. Just up ahead she saw a van parked on the pavement, blocking her route. She was ever conscious of putting herself in a potentially dangerous situation and passing an unmarked parked van at close quarters being one small item on her list of things to avoid, she crossed the road to the other side where the pavement was clear. However, now she was walking with the traffic coming from behind her and she grumbled silently to herself about the blatant inconsiderateness of people sometimes. As she crossed she was aware how much darker it seemed this side. A street lamp had been smashed. It was unusual in her area, she thought, but occasionally these things still happened.

A car with darkened windows slowly passed her. She noticed the plates were from Florida and imagined what kind of a long drive the occupant must have undertaken to come all the way up here. She'd never been to Florida. It wasn't really somewhere she had ever been all that interested in visiting. Maybe one day though. It would certainly be fun with children.

Lost in thought she carried on, vaguely registering that the car had just stopped about five metres or so down the road in the direction she was walking. She looked behind to see if there was any more traffic coming, intending to make another crossing to avoid passing the now parked car. At that point a young woman got out of the car, holding a map and Olivia felt a little relieved as the potential threat seemed reduced now. Sometimes she hated her job. She saw danger everywhere.

"Hey, are you from round here?" the young woman called out as Olivia approached. "Could you help me out with some directions?"

"Sure," replied Olivia. She assumed she was dealing with lost tourists. She stepped towards the woman and leaned over to get a better look at the map. It was a little confusing and she realised it was upside down in relation to the direction she was facing. She took the map and started turning it to line it up with the street they were in. Then she felt the gun pressed against her side. She cursed herself as she realised the woman had waited until she had both hands occupied before making her move.

"Don't say a word," instructed the woman, her face turning hard. Her voice clearly meant business.

Olivia attempted to reach for her decoy wallet, assuming that it was a robbery and that handing over something quickly would result in the thieves fleeing sooner. The woman quickly smacked her hand away hard with the gun. Olivia flinched in pain as the hard metal bruised her hand. The sudden viciousness surprised her. It seemed excessive. Before she could react, the gun was back pressed firmly against her side. She debated fighting back. This woman was of similar-size. She could likely take her down. If only she could reach her weapon, she could completely turn the tables. She doubted the woman suspected she had accosted a cop.

"Don't move!" the woman snarled, as if reading her mind. The car had reversed a little and was now alongside them. Someone opened the door from the inside and a man with gloved hands pulled her roughly inside onto the back seat. She banged her head on the car door as she was pulled inside and she winced. The woman with the gun leapt in beside her and closed the door. She felt the fear rising inside. This was not good. She had no idea why anyone would have taken her. Her mind flooded with possibilities and none were overly comforting.

Inside the car, with the gun still digging uncomfortably into her side, the man who had pulled her in quickly frisked her down, removing her concealed weapon and her mobile phone. With his still gloved hands he took the phone and chucked it from the window. It landed on the other side of the road barely ten metres from where she had been attacked. She briefly wondered why they had done that. Did they want her phone to be found? Did they want someone to know she had been taken? Maybe this was some kind of kidnapping and they didn't intend to kill her, or at least not immediately anyway. The presence of the woman also threw her a little. However, there had been several notable cases of women being involved in crimes that most people assumed were committed purely by men, so she didn't take the woman's presence to be a sure sign that these people didn't have something unthinkably unpleasant in store for her, although she dared to hope it was unlikely. The car then pulled off and the fear gripping her deepened as her complete lack of control over this situation started to hit her.

The man then handed her a cup with a small amount of liquid inside. "Drink!" he instructed. The lady on her left dug the gun further into her side. She hesitated. She wasn't stupid and guessed it was probably some kind of drug. She wasn't sure what choice she really had, but attempted to avoid it anyway. "I'm not actually all that thirsty" she said sarcastically, hoping she sounded a lot more confident that she felt. The man, obviously not in the mood for games, then grabbed her head roughly, forcing it back and placed the cup to her lips. He held her nose and placed his finger into the side of her mouth, forcing it open a little before he poured the liquid in. She spluttered and tried to spit as much out as she could, but was unable to prevent herself from swallowing some.

"Resistance is futile," snickered the woman beside her, immediately giving away one of her likely TV interests. The man roughly pushed Olivia back against the seat. Olivia closed her eyes. Her head already felt heavy and she was feeling decidedly dizzy. Her last comforting thought before she lost consciousness was that thank goodness she had sent that message to Elliot letting him know her intention to join him, for if she hadn't no one would have noticed her missing until at least Tuesday, given it was Friday night and she had a rare three day weekend booked off.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Elliot Stabler was waiting impatiently. He flicked open his phone for the fifth time and re-read her short message:

_ Sure. On my way now. Be there in 15._

It had been sent 45 minutes ago. Where on earth could she be? He dialled both her mobile and her home number each for the third time, but they both went straight to voicemail again. Had she changed her mind about coming to meet him? Surely she would have sent him another text though to let him know? Had something unexpected held her up on the way? What could it possibly be though, that she would have no opportunity to ring him and let him know she was delayed? He decided he couldn't sit there just wondering any longer. He assumed she would be coming from her apartment so he decided to retrace her steps along the route she would have come. He paid for his coffee and left. Outside it had started drizzling as the wispy clouds had drawn in closer over the last hour. He barely noticed.

As he walked, he half-expected to run into her mid-way. No doubt of course he'd end up feeling like a bit of a prick for not having been more patient. He smiled to himself as he imagined her exasperated reaction to seeing him come out to meet her like this. She would probably accuse him of being over-protective. She was fiercely independent and hated the thought of showing even the slightest sign of what she perceived to be weakness to anyone. She wasn't infallible though and walking the streets alone in the dead of night wasn't exactly recommended even if you were armed and trained in self defence. He berated himself for sending the text. He should have gone to her apartment.

The street was strangely quiet and dark. He supposed it was due to the fact that it was now 2:40 am and all sensible people were sleeping at this time. Maybe she had fallen asleep after sending her text? She could have just lain down intending to rest for five minutes before leaving and then accidentally fallen asleep. If that was the case he wouldn't let her forget standing him up for a while! He grinned. Getting to tease Liv was one of the more appealing parts of his working day. He could imagine her indignant reaction. Perhaps he should just go home and call her again in the morning? He almost turned back towards the coffee shop, but then decided since he was halfway to her place he may as well carry on. Besides, despite everything, there was something niggling at him, something telling him that things just weren't right. She had said she was coming and she never flaked on him, ever. Falling asleep just seemed a bit too far-fetched.

He turned into her block, gradually getting more and more nervous as there was still no sign of her. There was absolutely no one else in sight. He walked down the road a short way before he noticed something lying on the pavement at his feet. He looked down and realised it was a mobile phone. He picked it up, glancing round in a futile attempt to spot the owner. Then he realised with horror that he recognised the phone. There was a sticker on the outside, which he noticed when he picked it up and turned it over. It was a sticker that Olivia had been given by a kid they had rescued from an abusive situation a couple of weeks ago. His heart immediately sank into his stomach. He reached for his own phone and dialled Cragen's personal number. As the phone rang his eyes scoured the street. There was nothing out of place: only one broken street lamp. Finding Olivia's phone though could mean only one thing. She must have set out from home to meet him and something had happened to her before she could even get out of her own street. There was no way she would have just discarded her cell and he thought it also unlikely that she would have dropped it without noticing. Besides, if she had dropped it she would assumedly have carried on and reached the coffee shop ages ago. No, something was very wrong.

As he waited for the forensic team to arrive, he walked up and down the street, hunting for any kind of clue to help explain what might have happened. He couldn't help but blame himself. If only he hadn't invited her along for the coffee. She would still be safe in her own apartment, not goodness knows where with goodness knows who. Elliot wondered if it was a random event or if it was somehow work related. He knew time was crucial. If she had been taken by someone, every hour that passed would make the statistical chance of them recovering her alive and well less and less likely. He couldn't get his head around the fact that she was gone just like that. She was armed too. How could she have been overpowered so easily? He couldn't see any signs of blood, which was one good thing at least. His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty and he suddenly felt really sick. The worry was like an awful burning sensation gnawing at his insides. He was honestly as close to the panic taking over as he had ever felt. His mind raced with all the possibilities, the good and the bad. He tried to force the bad thoughts from his head and focused on the practical. He was determined he would find her whatever it took.

_I promise you, Olivia._

_..._

The first thing she was aware of was the throbbing pain in her head. Then she quickly realised her eyes, hands and feet were bound tightly. She gingerly stretched out her legs and realised they were just bound together not to anything. That was one small thing. At least she could change her position a little. She tried to pull her arms down from above her head and felt the resistance. It felt like she was on a hard bench or wooden bed with no mattress or something, so she guessed her bound hands were tied to the bed frame or to something on the wall at the head of the bed. She tried shaking her head and rubbing it against her arm in an attempt to loosen the blindfold, but it was on too tightly and she couldn't nudge it. As she became more aware of her surroundings, she heard the low noise of traffic. She guessed she must be by a fairly busy road. Was it daytime or night time? Even through the blindfold she could tell she was in a darkish room. Sounds seemed a little muffled too. Maybe it was a basement? It smelt a little musty too come to think of it. An old wood and brick and dust smell. She was relieved to discover she was at least fully clothed. She then realised how thirsty she was and wondered what drugs she had been given and how long she had been unconscious.

"Hey!" she called out, surprising herself with how dry and weak her voice sounded. She cleared her throat. "Hey!" she called out again. "Why am I here? What do you want with me?" There was no reply. The silence was deafening and the fear and uncertainty gripped her. Her helplessness was overwhelming. She wondered if Elliot had reported her missing yet. Were the team out looking for her? She felt somewhat comforted by the thought that Elliot would likely be leaving no stone unturned in his search for her. She closed her eyes under her blindfold and saw his face, heard his voice, gently asking her if she was OK. She imagined his warm strong arms holding her safely, taking her away from the nightmare she currently found herself in. Damn independence and strength, she just longed for his concerned touch, that feeling of genuine acceptance (and maybe even love) that she had rarely felt from anyone else. He would find her. She knew he would.

She shivered. It was cold down here. She needed water. Was this their plan? Just to tie her up and leave her down here to die a slow death from dehydration and hypothermia?

"Hey!" she shouted again, louder this time, her voice almost breaking. "Let me out of here! I need water!"

There was no immediate response. She lay back down heavily on the bed, turning her body slightly to the other side. It was pretty hard and uncomfortable. Her body was sore all over. Her hand was also painful where it had been hit by the gun and her shoulders ached - from having her arms up above her head for so long, she supposed. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand being left like this. She felt her mind wandering again. It was a jumbled mix of memories, ranging from her childhood to more recent events involving her brother, but consistently she found her thoughts turning to Elliot. The thought of him searching for her was the most comforting image she could come up. It was the only thing keeping her from completely giving into her fear and panicking. She imagined him bursting in through the door, Fin and Munch not far behind, him releasing her and then just the two of them going to Rocco's to have the coffee they were supposed to be having before she had been taken. When was that? She didn't have a clue.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Elliot was frustrated and impatient. They didn't have a single clue to go on. There had been no prints on her phone besides hers and of course his own, no clues on the ground and no one in the area admitted to seeing or hearing a single thing. She had apparently just vanished into the night without a single trace. It had been almost sixteen hours now since he'd found her phone. Time was slipping away fast and they were no closer to finding her.

Munch came in with another cup of coffee, which Elliot accepted gratefully. He could see the worry etched onto his colleague's face. They had all worked in this office for far too long and they were all painfully aware that things weren't looking terribly good. For all they knew she could already be dead. It wasn't something any of them wanted to consider, but eventually they may have to. It was hard to force all the images of the end results of previous abductions they had dealt with from their minds. There was always the chance though that they could reach the victim in time and Elliot clung on to this hope. If he didn't, he knew he would break down.

He stared at the photo of him and Kathy on his desk. He missed her. He hadn't been home since Olivia had been taken and there was no way he was leaving until he found her. He still longed for normality though: the alternate universe where his partner and best friend was safe. It suddenly hit him just how much of a void her disappearance had left. Staring at her empty desk he could almost hear one of the frustrated sighs she would let out subconsciously as she ploughed through her paperwork. She would flick her hair out of her eyes and he'd sneak a glance at her, briefly entertaining the thought that had he never met Kathy and got married….

These thoughts scared him though. He was married. He loved his family and he would never do anything to destroy that. He knew he felt maybe a little more than he should towards Olivia but he was determined to translate it into friendship. It was understandable that being partners they would grow close. He thought of her as family. He would do anything for her, just as he would for one of his kids or his wife. As he acknowledged his feelings, he felt the determination run through him. She was out there alone, suffering goodness knows what horrors while he was sitting there reminiscing. He needed to do something. He decided he would go back to the crime scene again. Maybe they had missed something? Maybe a witness would come forward? It had to be better than sitting in the office twiddling his thumbs. He stood and went to grab his coat.

...

Elliot returned a few hours later feeling deflated. He had found no further clues or information and the frustration and despair were threatening to overwhelm him. He felt the familiar ripple of anger running through his body as he forced himself to sit in his chair rather than start smashing everything in sight. He noted that the others kept a safe distance, recognising his mood and need for space as a result of years of working together. His boss, however, felt less compulsion towards accommodating his emotional outbursts.

"Elliot!" he called from the doorway of his office.

"Yes, Captain," Elliot replied reluctantly.

"Can you get in here for a minute?"

With an expression like thunder on his face, Elliot stomped over towards his superior's office and slipped inside, only just refraining from slamming the door behind him.

"What's up Captain?" he asked.

"Anything?" Cragen asked, ignoring his junior's questionable attitude.

"No, absolutely nothing," Elliot replied sullenly. "How can she have just disappeared like that? She's a cop? She would have done something surely, anything to give us a hint as to where she was?"

Cragen didn't reply. He didn't think Elliot was quite ready to deal with the fact that the likelihood was high that she had been incapacitated and had been physically unable to leave them any clues when she had been taken. He watched as Elliot sank defeated into one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Maybe it's time to start searching for a body?" said Elliot heavily.

Cragen looked at him sharply. He had already decided that hours ago, but Elliot admitting it now was significant. Up until this point he had been convincing himself that they'd find her alive. It seemed now he'd given up.

"There's still a chance," Cragen said soberly, "But I have already ordered searches of nearby parks and abandoned buildings.

"Right, of course," said Elliot dejectedly.

"Look, it's been a long day. You should go upstairs and get a couple of hours."

"As if I could really sleep!" replied Elliot quietly. He was too subdued to even get angry at the suggestion.

"All the same, you should try and lie down for a while."

"Maybe in a bit," replied Elliot.

Just then the phone rang, giving Elliot the perfect excuse to leave. He got to his feet and started towards the door. He turned to nod at his Captain, but stopped in his tracks as Cragen started gesturing frantically at him.

"You want to speak to Elliot Stabler?" Cragen said pointedly, his tone immediately giving Elliot hope that it had something to do with Olivia's disappearance. "Just a moment…" He handed the phone receiver over.

Elliot took the phone and raised it to his ear nervously.

"Stabler," he said gruffly, hoping his voice wouldn't give away the fear that had gripped him.

"She's alive… for now," an unsettling male voice echoed back at him. The relief hitting him immediately, Elliot immediately stood up straighter and beckoned for a pen. Cragen was already on it and thrust the pen and pad into his detective's free hand.

"Who is this?" Elliot asked, knowing that it was vital to get this guy talking as much as possible.

"All in good time," replied the caller. "Just stand by. You will be contacted." The caller hung up.

Elliot and Cragen locked glances in a brief moment of combined concern and relief.

"She's alive!" Elliot repeated, suddenly realising his knees felt shaky.

"A kidnapping?" asked Cragen. "What do they want?"

"They didn't say, just that they'd contact us again soon."

Cragen led the way out of his office and informed his team of the call they had just received.

"I'm on it," said Munch almost unnecessarily, referring to the standard call trace that he would now attempt to carry out. Elliot heaved another sigh of relief. Contact in any form was a huge positive step. It meant she was more than likely going to be kept alive and that her safe release was potentially negotiable. It was now just a matter of time. Hopefully the call trace would reveal something helpful, although something told Elliot that they weren't dealing with amateurs here. All the same they finally had something to go on. Now it was just a case of working out who had her, why and how they could go about getting her back?

...

Olivia moaned. Her body was hot and aching. The pain in her head, shoulders and bruised hand seemed to be getting worse. Her throat was dry and she needed to pee so badly that she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out. She barely even noticed the sound of the door being unlocked and the person entering the room, coming down the stairs and heading towards where she lay. She started when she felt someone touching her head and roughly removing the blind fold. She immediately winced as even the dim light hurt her eyes after being in the dark for so long. She was able to make out that there was a man standing there and that she didn't recognise him at all. He certainly wasn't the man who had been in the car, or at least she didn't remember him anyway. She couldn't rule out the possibility that the drugs had negatively affected her memory though. He lifted her head up slightly and placed a small cup of water to her lips. Despite her repulsion at being in such a vulnerable situation, she gulped it gratefully, some water spilling down her chin.

"Slowly." he instructed her. Embarrassed at her helplessness, but wanting the water more, she complied, sipping the water carefully until she finished the whole cup.

"You're burning up" said the man, with a slight touch of annoyance apparent in his voice. It seemed his prisoner being sick was not something he had been prepared for.

"If you promise not to try anything silly, I will untie you," he offered. He must have taken pity on her.

Her arms aching, Olivia promised and she meant it. Anything to be free of the torturous position she was currently being kept in. To be honest she didn't think she had the strength to resist anyway. The man gently untied her hands and then helped her to sit up. He rubbed her arms for her, ignoring her flinch at his touch, allowing the blood to flow properly again. He grunted with disapproval as he inspected her hand more closely.

"Idiots," he snarled. "I told them not to hurt you; just to bring you here".

"Why?" whispered Olivia, cradling her injured hand, but glad to feel the blood in her finger tips again.

"That's my business," replied the man harshly. Olivia looked into his eyes and saw a glint of hardness in them. There was no emotion. _Was he a sociopath?_ She inwardly shivered, wondering what fate these people were planning for her. For now she would do her best to try and stall for time, which would hopefully give the guys enough time to find her before it was too late. She was pretty sure that a rescue was the only way she was coming out of this alive. There was just something about this man that screamed ruthlessness. He seemed the type to take what he wanted, and then discard any obstacles in his path, with a witness no doubt being one such obstacle.

"I need to use the bathroom," she stated. It was true, but it might also prove useful in helping her learn more about her surroundings. If he took her upstairs to use a toilet, she might be able to discover what kind of building she was in, maybe even get a peek out of a window and work out where she was. She hoped she was still in the city at least. The traffic noise level suggested she might be.

The man stared at her silently for a few moments, trying to decide if her request was genuine. Then he spoke.

"I'll bring you a bucket.

With that he stood up and left. Her heart sank as the humiliating notion of her new bathroom arrangements sank in. Even in her weakened state, she briefly contemplated escape. However, she decided it was best to bide her time and instead watched him intently as he climbed the stairs and left the room. Her chance may come later.


	4. Chapter 4

4

The phone rang. This time Elliot was ready and it barely completed a whole ring before he grabbed it and answered.

"How is she?" he immediately asked. "Prove to me she is alive or we are finished." He hoped the bluff would work. As if he would just give up if they refused to give in to his request, he thought with a half-amused smile at the preposterous idea. It would be in their interests to prove she was OK so far. There was silence on the line for several moments, then a noise which sounded like footsteps on concrete. Elliot strained to hear anything else that could give them a clue as to where she might be being held.

"OK. Here she is," the curt reply came finally.

"Liv?" he asked cautiously. He was nervously wondering what state she would be in after being held for so long. Of course it was likely that outwardly she would appear as tough as nails, as per usual, but he knew her too well and he knew that the tough walls she had built up served to hide a particularly sensitive interior. They had encountered numerous dangerous situations over the years, but this lengthy captivity was a first and he knew everyone reacted differently to these types of situations.

"El?" she near whispered. His heart lurched as he heard her voice. There was an undercurrent of vulnerability in it which he had heard only a couple of times before over the course of all the years they had worked together. Despite her obvious attempt to sound strong, unfazed, he could hear her naked fear clearly but also that she was in considerable pain.

"Liv, yes it's me. We're coming to get you, I promise. Just hang in there. Are you hurt?"

"I'm all right," she lied. "They… they took the blindfold off."

Elliot winced, understanding immediately what she was telling him. Allowing her to see her captors likely meant they weren't worried about the repercussions, which meant they probably didn't intend to leave any witnesses behind. She had obviously wanted to let him know that a timely rescue was her only chance of getting out of there alive.

"Are there any landmarks, Liv?"

"Cars… maybe a road…" But, it was all she could say before she felt the sharp sting of the slap to her face and the phone was snatched from her hand.

"Liv, are you alright?" asked Elliot frantically, hearing the commotion and hating how helpless he was to do anything to aid her.

"She's fine. But don't do exactly what I say and she won't be for long. Are you listening?"

"Yes," replied Elliott, trying desperately to control the anger and desperation building up inside him. Then he heard the gut-wrenching sound of Olivia being hit with something again and obviously hard as he heard her cry out involuntarily. He fought the rage that immediately started to build and blinked away the tears which pierced at his eyes.

"What do you want?" he said, his voice shakier than he intended.

"I will send you my demands," was the cold reply and the caller hung up.

Elliot took a deep breath. He knew that he had just been given a warning. These people meant serious business and he would need to play every single card exactly right if they were to get Olivia out of this alive.

...

Olivia marvelled at the swiftness at which her captor seemed to change his mood. A few moments ago he had struck her hard with his gun, a steely glint in his eye and now he was gently wiping away the blood from the gash with a wet towel.

"You understand, I had to do that, to show them I am serious," he ventured in explanation.

"I think they realised that anyway," replied Olivia dryly, wincing every time her wound was touched. She hated the feel of his hands and fingers on her. She felt sick. Her captor just smiled, seemingly taking her comment as some kind of compliment.

"Just don't cause any problems and everything will be fine," he added. Olivia nodded not believing him for a second but playing the game all the same. Suddenly she was aware of the noise of someone else at the top of the stairs.

"Come on down Rich. Let me introduce you to our guest." Olivia felt the fear grip her afresh as the use of the man's first name confirmed to her that they really had no intention of letting her leave here alive. She watched tentatively as a tall and thin man started coming down the stairs. As he got closer Olivia noticed he had a huge scar across his nose and cheek. His eyes took an obvious sweep down her body, lingering a little too long and obviously on her breast area. He grinned nastily and she saw he had several teeth missing. He looked like he had been in a fair few fights. There was something else about him though which made her shudder. It wasn't something she could specifically put her finger on but he genuinely gave her the creeps. He came closer and she could smell his putrid breath, a mix of cigarettes, booze and something else she couldn't identify. She wondered if this guy had ever heard of a toothbrush.

"This is Detective Olivia Benson. The detective who, with Detective Elliot Stabler, helped put our Kenny away."

She started at the use of her and Elliot's full names. Rich glared at her not even attempting to slightly hide his contempt. Her heart sank further as she now understood better what this was all about. It was revenge. She realised her situation was even more serious than she had thought. It was personal. They obviously wanted her, and probably Elliot too, to suffer. She racked her brains trying to think which case they were referring to and it didn't take long to come to her. Kenneth Barton, a local gangster who had been rapidly rising through the ranks thanks to his ruthless way of dealing with anyone who crossed his path. He had been found guilty on five counts of torture-murder and numerous drug charges amongst other things. He would never see the light of day again. He had been particularly vicious and his victims had suffered long and painful deaths.

Realising just what she was dealing with, she closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing rate as the panic threatened to overwhelm her. It wasn't death itself that she particularly feared. It was the lead up to it that thoroughly terrified her. She hoped these guys weren't quite as insane as the guy she and Elliot had locked up, although she didn't particularly like her chances. She longed even more for Elliot to come bursting through the door, but it seemed they still didn't have a clue where she was.

After he had finished cleaning her wound, her captor disappeared back upstairs with Rich and Olivia was left alone again. Now more terrified than she had ever been in her life and aching from the fever she lay back down on the hard bench and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Maybe she could try and sleep a little, regain her strength and even think about escape? She knew she needed to try and get out of here as soon as possible.

...

Another night had passed. Elliot had managed to get about two hours sleep ion the crib but he was now once again at his desk, staring in disbelief at the list in front of him. This guy was taking the piss. Half his demands were just ridiculous. Some he knew were impossible. There was no way on earth the powers that be would ever agree to the release of Kenneth Barton, one of the most high-profile violent gang leaders he had ever come across in his whole career. He had been convicted for five brutal murders but was suspected of several more. Every single one had been so shocking that the finer details had been kept under wraps in order not to thoroughly terrify the general public. Most of the officers who had been first on the grizzly murder scenes were still struggling to get to grips with what they saw in counselling. Some would never work again. This was what they were dealing with? Elliot felt the knot of fear in the pit of his stomach as he recognised just how much danger his partner was really in. He realised her only hope was for him to somehow stall her captors long enough for them to work out where she was and then to attempt a rescue and hope no one was killed in the crossfire. Whatever happened, he knew this was unlikely to end uneventfully.

"Any luck on the trace, Munch?" he barked at his colleague, who like him had refused to go home while Olivia was still missing.

"Afraid not," sighed the detective reluctantly.

"She said there was a lot of traffic noise," Elliot reminded him.

Munch didn't answer. Traffic was a par for the course in a city. She may as well have said the sky outside was blue. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying as much out loud. Elliot was much too wound up and was definitely not in the mood for the usual teasing and banter that helped to keep them sane doing the job they did.

Elliot gave up on Munch and instead headed towards Cragen's office. He knew already what he would say, but he had to try.

"There's no way we can even consider releasing Barton," his boss confirmed. "It would be chaos. We'd have every gangster in the country arranging the kidnapping of the arresting officer."

"They are going to kill her, you know!" he yelled in frustration.

"I know," said Cragen softly. "It's hurting all of us." It was true. Olivia was well liked and respected. It was devastating the whole office.

"Can't they see she was just doing her job? Why couldn't it have been me, not her?"

"Maybe you should take a short break Elliot. Go to the gym for half and hour or something?"

"It's just so damn frustrating," snapped Elliot, annoyed at his Captain's apparent calm and resigned attitude towards the situation. There was no way he was going to accept it. "She doesn't deserve this," he said through gritted teeth before storming out of the office. Cragen let him go, hoping he was heading towards the gym to take his advice. The truth was he felt the same, but it wouldn't do to let his officers know just how close he was to teetering on the edge himself over Olivia's kidnapping. He had to at least pretend he had things under control.

Elliot slammed his fist into his locker, the dent blending in somewhat with the previous ones. His knuckles started bleeding slightly, but he barely noticed. He had to find her. He thought back to the phone call when he had spoken briefly to her. It had of course been recorded as was standard. He decided he would listen to it again and try and get the tech guys to amplify the background noise and see if there were any clues to be found there.

Murray Taylor was your stereotypical computer nerd, but he was extremely good at his job and Elliot respected his skill enough to usually put up with the banal banter. Today though, he wasn't in the mood. However, even Murray sensed the urgency of the situation and stuck to the topic at hand. As they listened to the enhanced background recording of the phone call, mostly all Elliot could hear was traffic, travelling at speed too, which made him wonder if she might be near a highway. Then suddenly he heard something he hadn't noticed before the enhancement: a couple of fire truck sirens which suddenly appeared out of nowhere, suggesting that they had been switched on assumedly as a call had come in! Was she near a fire station? All he needed to do was find out from the fire service exactly which engines were called to a fire at the exact time of the call and if they were near a highway they would have a reasonable clue as to the general area she was being held. From there it would be a matter of deduction and trial and error to hopefully find the exact building. This was it. The vital clue they had been looking for!


	5. Chapter 5

5

Her mouth was so terribly dry and she was unable to stop shivering. She drew the thin blanket around her body, catching sight of her hand which was swollen and bruised. She raised her other hand to her head and felt the crusty scab of the cut she had received earlier. She imagined she looked a complete mess. Being taken prisoner in real life was definitely not as glamorous as they'd have you believe in the movies. Her make-up was long gone, her clothes were dishevelled, she was soaked with sweat and grime from being down in this dirty cellar for so long and her hair was also matted with blood. She was almost embarrassed at the thought of being rescued, as anyone who did would see her looking her absolute worst.

The sound of the door at the top of the stairs interrupted her thoughts. She was too weak to sit up, so she stayed on the bench-bed waiting to see what her captor wanted this time. She wondered if they had finally realised there was no way the authorities would release Kenneth Barton and they'd come to finish her off. She was dully aware that this thought didn't terrify her quite as much as it might have done even a few hours ago. Living in constant fear combined with her physical state had resulted in her caring considerably less about what happened to her. In some ways death would be a welcome relief. Although the thought of Elliot finding out she had given up and effectively lain down to die nagged at her and went someway to renewing her drive to want to at least attempt to look for an opportunity to escape.

She was a little surprised, however, to see it was Rich, not the usual guy. He locked the door behind him and came down the stairs purposefully. She pulled the blanket that little bit closer to her, wondering what he wanted. He stood at the end of the bench staring at her, with his odd toothy grin, sneering at her ominously. Her heart sank as she realised just what his intentions towards her were.

"Can I have a little bit of water… please?" she asked, in an attempt to what? Distract him or buy some time? In any case, Rich ignored her. Olivia closed her eyes. The room was spinning. She knew she didn't have the strength to fight him off. Part of her had already given up and was thinking he should just hurry up and get it over with. He moved closer and laid his hand firmly on her thigh. She instinctively tried to pull her leg away from his grasp shifting up the bench a little towards the wall in the process. He roughly pulled the blanket away from her and leaned in, shoving his hand between her legs attempting to separate them. Overcome with nausea, she managed to wiggle free enough to lean over the side of the bench at which point she dry heaved. Rich stopped in his tracks. Even he could see now she actually looked pretty ill.

"You're as sick as a dog," he said in disgust. "I think you can wait. God knows what I might catch". Out of frustration, he punched her hard in the stomach, making her cry out in pain. "I'll be back though," he threatened and she knew he meant it. Then in the spur of the moment, in an attempt to maximise her discomfort, she supposed, he leaned forward and roughly grabbed her arms, pulling them up over her head and then binding them tightly to the hook on the wall at the top of the bench once again. He struck her one more time, across her face this time, then he disappeared back up the stairs. Olivia licked her lip tasting the fresh blood but she breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone. The discomfort of having her hands tied once again was much preferable to what he had in mind for her. She was safe for a little while longer, although how much longer was anyone's guess.

...

The team was ready. Everyone was in position. They were just waiting for the official go ahead. Elliot felt the rush of adrenalin that he always felt on a mission like this, although this time it was intermingled with real fear for his partner. If things went wrong, well he didn't even dare to imagine. Life without Olivia was not an option.

The plan was simple. Wait until dark, to make maximum use of the surprise factor, then storm the building and hope against hope they could get to Olivia before her captors even knew what was happening. They had been staking out the building all day and had a good idea of where the main guards were congregated. There would be officers entering at all main entry ways and snipers on the roof. The press had been informed about the intended raid and had promised not to start broadcasting until after the raid had begun, so as not to let there be any chance Olivia's captors getting a tip-off. There was nothing left to do but wait… _and pray_.

...

The noise coming from upstairs was incredible. Yelling and footsteps and even gunshots! Olivia wondered if it was the team come to rescue her or if it was another rival gang or if the animals that had her were just fighting amongst themselves. Her heart was racing, her head pounding. Her wrists were aching. Rich had been quite thorough with her restraints and she could feel the rope cutting into her skin. She realised there hadn't been any more gunshots for a good minute before she heard the noise at the top of the stairs as someone kicked at the door, trying to break the lock. The door was strong. However, a few kicks later the frame finally broke and the door clattered down the stairwell. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, as she wondered for a few awful seconds if it was Rich coming back for her. Then a familiar figure came down the stairs followed by a couple of officers she didn't recognise.

Elliot literally leapt down the last five steps and quickly rushed across the room to the wooden bench where she lay.

"El," she managed.

"Oh Liv," said Elliot looking at his partner, his best friend, distraught to see her lying there like that. He quickly radioed to say he had found her and asked for an EMS team to be sent down, immediately. He struggled with the knots, but he finally managed to free her hands. As soon as he did, he placed his arm under her back, helping her to slowly sit up. It was only then he realised she was obviously burning up with fever. She looked absolutely awful. Her skin was pale and clammy and she appeared pretty dehydrated. Her lips were cracked from the lack of moisture. He took in the cuts to her face and head, her swollen bruised hand and cut wrists and noticed her wince in pain as pulling her upright compressed her stomach. He pulled her towards him to lean against him, the new position taking the pressure off her stomach a little. He had never felt so much hatred in his life as he did right now towards the people who had done this to her. He cradled her in his arms, telling her that she was safe now and everything was going to be OK, as he waited for help to arrive. Olivia seemed to sink deeper into his arms, a terrifyingly peaceful expression coming over her face as she closed her eyes.

"No, Liv, stay with me, stay with me," he pleaded her, stroking her hair. He felt the tears stinging at his eyes but he forced them back. He put his fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. It was rapid but weak. He laid his head on her chest, listening to her shallow quick breaths.

"I'm so sorry Olivia," he muttered, wishing he could have found her so much sooner, before she had got into this state. He felt her tighten her grip very slightly on his arm.

"No," she whispered. "Thank you." She paused. "I must look terrible…" Then her grip loosened as she closed her eyes and lost consciousness.

"No, you're beautiful," whispered Elliot softly, leaning his face into her hair and taking in the lingering distinctive smell of her shampoo.

The paramedics finally arrived and quickly started an IV before lifting her carefully onto a trolley. Elliot remained by her side, clutching her hand tightly as they pushed her out of the building and towards the waiting ambulance. News crews were gathered around and Elliot tried to shield her as best he could from the cameras, then he leapt into the ambulance after her, riding with her to the hospital.

...

Olivia's injuries had been treated, her cuts bandaged and she had been moved up to a private room. She had been given meds to reduce her fever and help with the pain and she was sleeping peacefully when Elliot crept back into the room. He had just been down to the precinct to file the paperwork, but had escaped as soon as he could and come straight back to the hospital. He knew Olivia didn't have any real family or close friends nearby apart from him, so he wanted to be there for her when she woke up. In all honesty he had been terrified he was going to lose her and he wasn't willing to let her out of his sight just yet. He couldn't help but acknowledge how beautiful she was lying there, despite the huge gash on her head and her split lip. The IV fluids had helped already and she already had more colour to her cheeks. Luckily the head wound hadn't needed many stitches and the scar would of course be hidden under her hair, once it grew back from where they had shaved it.

Elliot sank into the chair beside her and leaned against her bed, resting his head against her arm. His emotions were in turmoil. He was a married man, with five children, yet he found himself so completely drawn to this woman, his partner, his best friend, a woman who was closer to him than anyone else in his life, closer even than a sister. He wasn't sure he even understood his feelings exactly, let alone his wife's. Kathy tried to be understanding, but he knew she felt uncomfortable about how much time he and Liv spent together. Olivia knew a huge side to him that Kathy never would.

Elliot's thoughts kept returning to how desperate he had felt at the thought of his partner not making it through this time. It made him realise and acknowledge how much she really meant to him: not that he hadn't already known. It was just not something he usually felt comfortable dwelling on.

He felt her arm move and he immediately sat up, grasping her hand as she opened her eyes. He saw the initial look of terror on her face before she remembered she had been rescued. He smoothed back her hair in an uncharacteristic gesture of open affection.

"You're safe now, Liv; you're in the hospital," he said.

"It's over?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed gently.

"How long do I have to be here?" she asked. He grinned. This was more like her.

"The doc said a couple of days. We have to see how you go. You've been through a huge ordeal."

Olivia's eyes seemed to cloud over as if remembering things she didn't want to remember. She squeezed his hand which still held hers.

"Liv," he whispered, "What is it? What happened?" She looked away, but he persevered. "Please, tell me. I want to help you."

"I just don't really want to talk about it right now," she said heavily.

"OK," he said gently. "I understand. But you know, I'm here for you. Whatever it is, you can talk to me."

She smiled at him, grateful for his concern even though she knew the last thing she was about to do was open up and reveal any 'weakness' to him, her partner, a man whose respect she wanted more than anything. Suddenly he leaned over and spontaneously kissed her forehead.

"What was that for?" she asked surprised.

"Just happy to have you back," he replied, smiling. She gazed deep into his eyes recognising in them just how worried he had been.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered. "Sorry I put you through this." He gritted his teeth, saddened that she was blaming herself in any way.

"It's not your fault," he said. It was just like her though to be thinking of him more than herself.

The pair fell silent, Elliot just holding her hand, pleased she hadn't pulled away. Nothing more needed to be said just now. There would be plenty of time to talk later.


	6. Chapter 6

6

The office seemed empty without her. Almost four weeks had passed and she was still on leave and would be for a while longer yet. After she had been released from the hospital it was as though she had retreated into her own world. Every day he would pop by her place after work, just to check she was OK. She seemed to be growing more and more distant. Her eyes were dull and sunken, almost lifeless. He could tell she obviously wasn't sleeping and more than likely not eating properly either. She refused to let him in, just chatting in the doorway long enough to convince him she wanted to be left alone. He had been trying to respect her need for space, but he was starting to get really worried now. She'd been through bad experiences before, but this was different. It was still soon, he knew that. He knew that it wasn't something she could just "get over" quickly, but so far he had been unable to convince her to even start the process. She still insisted she needed time alone before talking about it with anyone, including him.

That night he was due to finish work early and he planned to go round to her place and make sure she ate something. He wasn't the world's best cook, but he knew his way around a kitchen. He needed to do something for her. Standing by, seeing his partner and friend just fall apart in front of his eyes was heart-breaking. She needed to start facing this. He wished he had done something earlier, but work had been busy and it was so easy to let the days slip into weeks. He did feel a little guilty about it, but it was also hard to know what to do when she was blatantly refusing his offers of help.

As he climbed the stairs up to her floor, he was starting to feel quite nervous. In some ways it would be much easier to just go home. He scolded himself immediately. She needed him. _He needed her. _

He knocked. Several seconds later she opened the door. She seemed surprised to see him. It was admittedly a few hours earlier than he usually made it round.

"El, I'm tired," she said before he could say anything.

"Liv. I'm coming in," he stated poking his foot through the door to make sure she couldn't shut him out

"Please. Not today," she said, a tinge of desperation coming through in her voice. He almost gave in then, but he couldn't let this carry on. She needed help.

"Liv, I'm worried about you," he insisted. He stepped inside, ignoring her weak attempt at further protest, and closed the door behind him. She turned around and headed towards the living area and sank down on the sofa. He was disappointed that she hadn't fought him more, given him a sign that the person he knew as his partner was not completely lost. He looked around and in all honestly was a little shocked. The curtains were drawn, the place was a mess. No wonder she hadn't wanted him in. The worst thing was she didn't look like she even really cared.

"I'm making you something to eat," he stated and made his way to the kitchen to follow through on his offer. He sighed as he saw the kitchen was in no better shape than the living area. There were dishes in the sink, a few open packets on the side and several empty bottles of wine. He looked across the counter and saw she was sitting staring at the TV, but obviously not really watching it. She looked up and saw him looking at her.

"I would have tidied up if I'd known I was having guests," she ventured, looking slightly embarrassed, which at least told him that perhaps the real Liv was not all that far away after all.

"Don't be silly," he replied. "I'll fix you something quickly and then we can talk."

"I'm not hungry," she replied.

"Well I'll make something anyway. Just have a little. You need to eat."

Olivia sighed miserably. She appreciated his concern, but it really was a nuisance. She was so tired. The thought of actual sleep was terrifying though. The nightmares were constant and almost worse than her actual ordeal. She stared at the TV screen, watching the moving pictures, hearing the sounds, but her mind elsewhere.

A short while later Elliot brought her some pasta. It looked and smelled good. She had to admit she was impressed. He handed her a plate and a fork. Slowly and reluctantly she wrapped some spaghetti around her fork and took a bite under Elliot's approving gaze. It tasted as good as it looked. She managed almost a third of the plate – more than she'd eaten in one sitting since she'd left the hospital. Elliot seemed pleased. He finished the rest off for her, muttering something about hating to see perfectly good food go to waste. After he had finished, he busied himself with the washing up and tidying of the kitchen. She had protested of course, but he had insisted and she had been too tired to really resist. When he'd finished he came and sat down on the sofa beside her.

"Thanks El," she said. "I guess it's getting late…"

"No, Liv," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving this time. I'm not leaving until you talk to me. You need to do this. You can't go on like this."

"For fuck's sake, Elliot," Olivia snapped at him, surprising both him and herself at the vehemence of her words. "Can't you see I just need to be on my own at the moment?"

"You've had a whole month alone. It's time to let me in," he replied softly.

"Just go! Go home! Go back to your family!" she yelled.

"I'm staying here," he said firmly. His gentle approach was disconcerting. She had expected an equally angry reaction from him after her outburst, resulting in him storming out and finally leaving her alone. This side of Elliot was one she wasn't used to and it was unnerving.

Frustrated beyond belief, she was dismayed to feel her tears pricking at her eyes. Embarrassed at her display of what she considered weakness and angry that she had let him get to her like this, she started to turn away from him, but he pulled her to him and held her tightly, determined to let her know that she didn't have to face this alone anymore. He could feel her body shaking with the growing strength of her emotional outburst as the floodgates opened and she was no longer able to prevent the tears from falling. She stopped struggling and he felt her draw in closer to him, gripping his arms tightly as she silently wept, letting out some of the pain and hurt that she had been trying to suppress over the last few weeks. He knew this was probably the first time she had cried since it had all happened.

He ignored the discomfort of her tight vice-like grip and held her patiently, waiting for her. Her tears fell and fell for what seemed like ages. He had no idea how much time had passed but he didn't really care. Gradually her body stopped heaving and she loosened her grip slightly on his arms, still resting her head against him, not yet quite ready to break physical contact. He didn't utter a word, recognising that this was just what she needed. She needed to be close to him. She needed someone to take her into their arms and make her believe that everything would be OK, even if just for a short while. He gently stroked her hair as she closed her eyes. She was exhausted. He was surprised at how content he felt to be holding her like this, knowing that his presence was soothing her. It was one of their most intimate moments so far and he knew such moments were few and far between and wanted to hold on to it for as long as he could.

It was a little while later when Elliot realised she had fallen asleep. He considered attempting to lift her to her bed, but he didn't want to disturb her and to be honest he felt a little uncomfortable with the idea of encroaching on the personal space of her bedroom without her direct permission. He decided to remain where he was. She obviously felt safe in his arms and he felt happy to have her in them, to know that he was comforting her, finally helping her in some small way. He reached down into his pocket and gingerly inched out his mobile phone. He sent a quick text to Kathy to let her know he was stuck on a job and wouldn't be coming home. It wasn't the first time he'd lied, and he felt a twinge of guilt, but he told himself it was for her sake. He very much doubted his wife would be overly keen to know exactly where he was right now, with his long-term partner cradled in his arms. She wouldn't understand. Once he'd sent the text he snuggled back into Olivia, just thinking, enjoying the rare contact, content.

He woke when he felt her moving. Glancing at his watch he was surprised to see it was 3am. He realised she was wide awake. He smiled at her when she looked up at him. "Are you OK?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, raising her hand to her neck and rubbing it slightly. "But…and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, would you mind if we moved to the bed?"

"Sure," he said. He was pleased she had said we. He was feeling a bit stiff himself from all that time sleeping semi-upright on the sofa.

They stood up and moved into the bedroom and climbed into the bed, fully clothed, neither feeling awkward about it.

"Tell me Liv." Elliot said once they were comfortable, her snuggled in his arms once again. Olivia sighed. Then she decided what the hell and she started speaking, telling him everything that had happened, including her near-rape at the hands of Rich. As she spoke, Elliot had to concentrate hard to control his own emotions. He couldn't help thinking how brave she was as she lay against him baring her soul, sharing her deepest trauma with him and only him, a poignant sign of just how much she trusted him. He held her and listened quietly until she had finished.

"It's going to be OK, Liv," he comforted her once she finally stopped speaking. "I'm so glad you trusted me to talk about this. We're going to get you through this, I promise."

She already felt like she'd released a huge weight. It was a start. She knew she was now ready to start the healing process, the counselling, everything. She wanted to get back to work, back to normal, working alongside the person she cared about the most in the world.

"Thank you, El," she said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "I'm sorry I shut you out."

"I'm just glad you could talk to me now, Liv," he replied. She looked at him intently. She had never felt such an intense connection with anyone before. The fact that they could just lie here in each others arms was a pure sign of their friendship and partnership that most other people could never even begin to understand. It suddenly hit her just how much he really meant to her.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, terrified for his reaction to her words. She quickly realised her fears were unjustified.

"I know," Elliot whispered back a little awkwardly but emanating sincerity. "I love you too."

x The End x

**A/N - I'm just thinking about this story now and am wondering if I might be inspired to pick up from here at some point and carry on... not sure. I kind of love the up-in-the-air ending, but the E/O fan in me wants more developments... hmmm... I will think about this and about where I could take it. 06/Nov/2012**


End file.
